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Thursday, March 6, 2014

Why I Can't Stand Petty Snark Pretending to Be Social Commentary

Apparently, Randa Jarrar is not a fan
of my work. Not that I think she's talking to me in particular, but Randa Jarrar wants the world to know that she "can't stand" "white" "belly dancers." She then makes a second assertion (that she doesn't
really defend or connect to the first): "Whether they know it
or not, white women who practice belly dance are engaging in
appropriation." Here's the essay, which was published a few days ago by Salon.

I hate even posting
this link. Randa Jarrar's assertions are inflammatory nonsense, and she
deserves very little of the attention she has drawn. But her essay has drawn
quite a bit of attention, at least in my corner of the bellysphere,
and I'm not seeing every last bit of the nonsense being called out as
clearly as I would like it to be. If people are inclined to use this
essay as a starting point for discussions about cultural
appropriation, racism, Orientalism, and colonial legacies, great.
But if people think these are the issues that Randa Jarrar has actually written
about, I would encourage them to read more closely. What I see is an
essay about body shame, and a nasty wallow in the time-honored
tradition of shaming professional dancers. Just because this
pettiness is disguised behind a veneer of sensitive issues doesn't
mean it isn't just plain old garbage.

It's hard to recap Randa Jarrar's
writing because her narrative is so muddy, but she starts with some
commentary on the colonial legacy of belly dance and of the very term "belly dance." She then moves on to fond reminiscences of social dancing
at home and at weddings, particularly in the company of other women;
then expresses distaste at the body, costume, and artistic
signature of a "white" dancer she has seen at a restaurant.

The white dancer is [emphasis mine] "not a terrible
belly dancer, but," Randa Jarrar continues, "she was incredibly thin..." Okay, people like
different things, and it's okay to have and state preferences. But
thin-shaming is just as petty as fat-shaming, and a quick internet
search reveals the author to be a woman of larger proportions who
thinks about body image. Here's an excerpt from Randa Jarrar's blog, from a post titled Lately I Feel Beautiful:

For years, I was told that because I am
not thin, I am not allowed to feel or be beautiful. Well, that’s
strange, because I feel and am beautiful right now, everyday.

This is a feeling I am extra-proud of since, also lately- no, my
whole life- I have seen movies, magazine covers, TV shows, and
articles that declare that I ought not to feel beautiful- or healthy,
because of my size.

I am fat- really fat, and in the past year, I have become more and
more in love with my fat. I love my body rolls. I love my
double-chin. I love my flappy arms. I love my stretch marks.

So perhaps Randa Jarrar brings up the
thinness of the dancer as a way of criticizing the narrowness of how
beauty is defined by mainstream commercial imagery, and is also
rolling in a point about the whiteness of that same imagery. Or
maybe she's reaching out with her own story, expressing what it's
like to see positive attention being given to a body that is unlike her own. Either topic has the potential to be interesting, but unfortunately I don't think that's what's really going on here. I think she's just expressing peevish distaste for an entertainer's intention to be entertaining in a thin body.

(I don't
know how “brown” Randa Jarrar perceives herself to be. In the photos that
come up in an image search, she looks pretty pale. She doesn't
explicitly say that she's defining whiteness in terms of skin color,
but her use of “brown-ness” as a device to frame the opposite of
whiteness strongly suggests the equation of whiteness and pallor.)

Back to the Salon Essay about how Randa Jarrar can't stand white belly dancers. Reading on, we learn that the white dancer (who isn't a terrible dancer, but who is incredibly thin I guess in a bad way) is also "in
Arab Drag."

"because that’s what that is, when a
person who’s not Arab wears genie pants and a bra and heavy eye
makeup and Arabic jewelry, or jewelry that is meant to read as
“Arabic” because it’s metallic and shiny and has squiggles of
some kind."

Apparently the costuming itself is
okay. What is deemed problematic is that it is on a non-Arab. Earlier in
the piece Randa Jarrar expresses distaste for "white women in
flowing, diaphanous skirts, playing at brownness." Here too the
objectionable element seems to be the skin color of the
diaphanous skirt-wearer, not the skirt itself. I find it surprising
that someone who is ostensibly indignant about
cultural appropriation has no opprobrium for nightclub costuming. The two-piece "bedleh"
costume was invented at the beginning of the 20th century, at the same time that Middle Eastern dances were reconfigured into a nightclub entertainment for
audiences of Europeans and wealthy Westernized Arabs. It's mostly definitely not a folk costume.

Back again to Randa Jarrar's ordeal of fine dining with a floorshow. The white dancer was thin, she was wearing costuming to which she is not entitled, and

Huh. I too really like those great dancers from
days past, and I like the historical styles they represent. But
this "go Fifi or go home" attitude is singularly hardcore. Remember the white dancer was "not terrible." So I guess maybe she wasn't good either, but this isn't described as an issue of her competency, but rather her similarity to stars of yesteryear. Is
Randa Jarrar really saying that it's inherently objectionable that
the artistic trends of belly dance are not frozen in time? If so,
Randa Jarrar will never enjoy ANY live performance of professional
belly dance, including the dances of plump brown-skinned Egyptian
Arabs, because the styling of Fifi (the most recently active of those
dancers) is long gone.

Moving on again. Having concluded her story about enduring the white dancer at the restaurant, the author next veers off into unclear ideas about loose-fitting clothing. She
speaks with approval of Fifi Abdo dancing in a gallibeya (weirdly
described as "loose robes"), and then shares an anecdote on whose meaning I am unclear:

"At a movie theater in Cairo in 2007, I
argued with a male friend about why the lead actress wore a strange,
baggy dress underneath a bra-and-skirt dancing ensemble. He suggested
that she was uncomfortable with her body; I suggested that the
country was becoming more conservative and she was too much of a
media darling to appear with her skin exposed."

Does Randa Jarrar share the
conservative attitudes to which she alludes? She doesn't share a "male" attitude that someone would wear a shapeless garment
because they were uncomfortable with their body, and, remember, she
doesn't object to nightclub costuming as long as it is worn by
Arab dancers. But then again, there was that thing
in praise of Fifi in the gallibeya...

Randa Jarrar veers off further:

"Years later, the revolution happened,
or tried to happen, and when the Muslim Brotherhood took over, and
Western news outlets began publishing stories that claimed belly
dancing was a dying art. Tell that to the women on the streets and on
rooftops and in bedrooms and living rooms and weddings dancing their
hips off. (See this
video, for example, of actual working-class Egyptian women of all
sizes and ages dancing in the streets.) The one interesting
thing about these stories is that they reported that Western, or
white women, were beginning to take over gigs in Egypt. These women
moved there out of an obsession with belly dance and are now
appropriating it from local dancers."

So basically: yes, a conservative regime does
suppress professional performance of belly dance, but that's okay,
because belly dance as an art form is just fine, if not better off, without
professionals.

.
.
.
.

So there you have it. To me this looks like a simple case of
Randa Jarrar (who also wrote that she did not hire a pro but instead
was “her own” dancer at her own wedding) wanting to be the
center of attention, and she would like for all of you sharmuta
professional belly dancers in your skimpy costumes to stop upstaging
her. Unless maybe you happen to look just like her, or you are a
nonthreatening video clip from a bygone era – then it's okay if
people express approval.

I have a few more thoughts about "whiteness,"
foreign dancers, professional dance, and the credibility of Randa Jarrar as a cultural
critic.

It's
true that Egypt's most
successful professional dancers, both foreign and Egyptian, tend to have
pale skin (and for that
matter, straight hair). Egypt is in Africa, but its cultural mainstream does not prize prominent African features or coloration. How much other cultures have influenced this preference is debatable, but the preference
predates 20th century colonialism. While it is unfair, and a real thing to deplore (I wish it's what Randa Jarrar had written about), the reality of the dance market is that it is simply easier
for light-skinned
dancers, and less open to dark-skinned dancers, regardless of whether
they are Egyptian or foreign. Complexion trumps competence. For Randa Jarrar's idealized brown Arabs,
professional dance may very well be an unwelcome job
of last resort that doesn't even pay very well.

Nonetheless, there is no glut of obsessed and predatory "white" emigrees
filling vacancies left by brown-skinned Arabs.

For Egyptian women from the Muslim Arab
cultural majority, dance is simply not a respectable profession, so
dancing professionally is not an option. This is a firmly entrenched
cultural attitude that predates current conservative politics by
centuries. Perhaps dance is a fine social activity to practice away
from the "male gaze" in the private confines of one's home, but
the same activity becomes a disgrace when one's body is on display
for undifferentiated male viewing, let alone when the dancing body is
displayed in exchange for money.
Breaching this standard of "modesty" is a shameful transgression
– it is often conceived of as a shade on a spectrum of prostitution.
Star dancers suffer less in the court of public opinion, but the
majority of working dancers are not stars.

So who's dancing? Who has the freedom to defy mainstream expectations and constraints? Foreigners and other marginal "others." Alien work authorization is
notoriously difficult for foreign dancers to obtain, but many of Cairo's current
professionals are from the US, Brazil, Europe, and countries of the
former Soviet Union. But the fact that many dancers working in Egypt do not
represent the mainstream of Egyptian Muslim Arab society is a cultural constant, not a new development. Historically, Egypt's professional dancers have always come
disproportionately from the social margins; they are women from
ethnic or religious minorities, including Copts and other Christians,
Jews, Rom and Dom ("gypsies"); women from the lower classes who
are born into a family business of dance and music; or women who are
just plain poor. In an ironic twist, sometimes financially-independent college-educated women occupy this same marginal space. Foreigners and these marginal "others" aren't
displacing anyone – they are the only ones for whom dance jobs are real options.

Foreigners are present in Egyptian professional dance explicitly because they are less inhibited by Egyptian taboos. Not only do foreigners NOT take away native jobs, they enrich the Egyptian economy through their
participation in Egypt's dance industry. Foreign dancers are dance
tourists and
visiting students, customers of Egypt's costume design houses,
consumers of Egyptian-produced music, and the patrons of touring
Egyptian workshop instructors. Author Randa Jarrar says of Egyptian
teachers who teach non-Egyptian students, "their financial
well-being is based on self-exploitation." This does not sound
to me like a criticism dependent on the skin color or nationality of
the student of Oriental dance, but, once again, a blanket
condemnation of dance professionals.

And yet Randa Jarrar did praise a few
professional dancers–Fifi Abdo, Taheya Carioca, and Hind Rostom.
Why does she fail to appreciate that their skill and stage presence are made possible by their professionalism? Even in a gallibeya, even in woman-of-the-people non-Oriental mode,
to an educated critic Fifi is clearly demonstrating a level of talent
and preparation that is emphatically NOT that of "women on the
streets and on rooftops and in bedrooms and living rooms and weddings
dancing their hips off." Fifi is a pro, and like other professional dancers her artistry was made possible by income derived from the time she spent perfecting her craft. Dance, like any art, does not flourish if its creators are not rewarded and can not invest in their work.

But I guess it's okay to be pro if you wear a gallibeya? And the other dancers mentioned,
Taheya Carioca and Hind Rostom (who wore all sorts of things, but definitely had bedlehs in rotation) are just faded and hence
non-threatening black-and-white movie memories?... And, you know,
Fifi and Taheya and Hind (all of whom I would describe as pretty pale
ladies) are so purely uncompromised by foreign influence...

Except
that they're not. Middle-Eastern dance of the 20th and current
centuries, whether it is social dance or performance, is utterly
saturated with outside influence from both the West and other Middle
Eastern cultures. This includes "authentic" dance done by
Egyptian Arabs for audiences of Egyptian Arabs. Even if one were to
take away all of the influence from England, France, and the United
States, you'd still be looking at a melting-pot dance created from
the remnants of shifting and overlapping Greek, Persian, Arab,
Turkish, and Central Asian empires. And in the 20th century, as much–perhaps more–ballet entered Egyptian Oriental dance from the Soviet Union as it
did from Europe or the US. Taheya Carioca's professional surname,
"Carioca," reflects the one-time popularity of the namesake
South American dance. As for Hind Rostom, let's look at the top two
search results

Oh no, I can't stand it! Whether she knows it
or not, Hind is engaging in
appropriation!

Oh no! Look at that diaphanous
skirt. Hind is dancing in "Arab face!" As Randa Jarrar says, "Arab women are not vessels for white women to pour themselves and lose
themselves in; we are not bangles or eyeliner or tiny bells on hips. We
are human beings." Or, wait a minute, maybe this isn't Arab face, because she is
an Arab, and that makes it okay, right? And I can tell that she's an
Arab because of her brown skin – oh, no, wait, she's actually quite
fair-complected. But wait, I can tell that she's an Arab because of
her Arabic-sounding name. Phew, there's a bullet dodged! No wonder it is so important to Randa Jarrar that crafty foreigners not start using Arabic-sounding stage names that would
make it more difficult to distinguish who is entitled to wear what. But, no, wait, she only objects to "names that make no sense in Arabic." So "Taheya Carioca," for instance, is not good?

Am I supposed to use a stage name that does make sense in Arabic? Isn't that appropriation?

Even when I was primarily doing commercial club work for Middle-Eastern
audiences, I never wanted to use a "dance name," mostly
because it didn't feel right. But Arab audiences NEVER liked me as "Autumn Ward." They
thought it was deeply weird, they didn't know how to pronounce it,
and I was even told that it was not respectful of the culture to not
try to assimilate. Against my objections, my name got changed into all kinds of things, many of which made no sense: Fatima
(F-autumn-a), Atman, Ottoman (?), Asmahan, Harifa...

Goodnight Randa Jarrar. You've wasted more than enough of my time already.

I'm just a dude that doesn't know anything about belly dancing but I was really shocked by the Salon article, so I googled it to learn more and came across your response. Really thoughtful and well done and hey I even learned something about belly dance. I tried to link to your response in the Salon comments but you have to register and I don't want to. I recommend you send this Salon's 'curator of feminist culture' or whoever was responsible for posting the original tripe, and ask them to let you publish a rebuttal.

Bravo Autumn! I can't agree more. One thing that I just can't get my head round in the original article is this: "These women [white people who have been dancing for years on end] are more interested in their investment in belly dancing than in questioning and examining how their appropriation of the art causes others harm." Eh? How on Earth are "these women" causing anyone harm, exactly? I mean, this article is not just racist, it's incredibly poorly structured. Ah, well.

My favorite comeback set on the Salon site (where everyone is calling her out on her nonsense) is

Save Us Jeebus 1 hour agoOkay, Randa, I hope you're not wearing jeans or wearing tennis shoes or using an American made computer or driving a Chevy or anything. Wouldn't want you to be seen "appropriating" my culture.

This is also an excellent response to the Salon article: http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/volokh-conspiracy/wp/2014/03/06/what-would-salon-think-of-an-article-called-why-i-cant-stand-asian-musicians-who-play-beethoven/

I can understand why that might seem like it's a good response, but it's actually not. Cultural appropriation and exotifying of an entire people never played into the inclusion of classical music into asian culture, and whenever asians conform to western standards, that is still a leftover from colonialism and making an entire people feel inferior to the marks of "whiteness".

Any age and gender is the right age and gender. If you want to dance, dance! ♥ And for anyone who feels hesitant about trying out a class, don't worry about whether or not you look like a professional performer. The youth and femaleness (as well as the conventionally-defined beauty) of professional performers reflects commercial pressures, not anything at all about what is required to dance beautifully, or for that matter, to just enjoy dancing. Belly dance requires basic mobility and some level of physical fitness, and those who are more fit have more tools for expression in their artistic toolkit, but truly masterful belly dance is characterized primarily by grace, coordination, musicality, and charismatic stage presence. Elite levels of strength, flexibility, power, or cardio endurance are absolutely not pre-requisites.

The social dance of Egypt and many other parts of the Middle East falls under the umbrella of what many English speakers call “belly dance.” As Randa Jarrar rightly points out, social dance is done by women of “all shapes and sizes.” In fact, it's done by everyone – women, men, kids, old folks. Some people who are only familiar with professional performance are surprised by the idea of men doing belly dance, and tend to assume that male dancers are not very masculine. Sometimes they are not. Men who express themselves in an effeminate way tend to dance in an effeminate way. But “macho” men are quite macho in their dance expression. The vocabulary of the dance in some ways does seem “feminine” because of its curvilinearity, but the expressivity and styling of the performer (as well as the prejudice of the audience) are the dominant factors that flavor an individual's dance. Ballet, for instance is dominated by “masculine” straight lines, but ballerinas are usually regarded as quite feminine. The energy of much contemporary flamenco is quite aggressive, with women frequently using movements that were historically traditional only for men. But as with ballerinas, most female flamenco artists are not perceived as challenging gender norms.

In the commercial sphere, one primarily sees young women, but the wider world of belly dance artistry is blessed with beautiful diversity. Not only are all kinds of people dancing, they are doing all kinds of dances – folk, social, and performance dances authentic to Middle Eastern traditions; the fusion “American Tribal” style and other further-fused tribal and tribal fusion styles; work in a variety of fantasy and contextual-transposition genres, ranging from Goddess to Goth to Steampunk; and theatrical work that depicts belly dance in both traditional and nontraditional ways.

And there are also those who do belly dance simply for the joy it brings, and for its health benefits to both body and spirit. These dancers have no intention to ever perform or to dance socially in a Middle Eastern context. They just dance.

So no matter who you are, if you want to dance, you should dance too!

Thank you to Indeterminacy both for your comment and for giving me the opportunity to express these additional ideas.

Thank you for such a long and thoughtful reply to my comment. It was silly of me to think age/gender should be stumbling blocks to this dance. I guess I wouldn't be opposed to trying it - though I didn't have that much success with any dance lessons I did. Just two left feet. Probably goes back to never having done much sports as a kid. The last years I did start playing softball on a regular basis, so maybe I should revisit some kind of dance as well :-)

It makes me very happy that the belly dance community that Randa seems so offended by have had much more thoughtful and well researched responses to her "article" than the general public she wants attention from.

Just a correction. Tahia Carioca. Carioca is a name given to the people born in Rio de Janeiro. I am a carioca for example, as I was born in Rio. So, basically Tahia is not an Arab but Brazilian. I wonder if Randa knows that... Possibly not. How ironic that one of her favourite dancers "appropriated" a name which is 1) indigenous from the Tupi Guarani language of the native indians of Brasil. 2) Very probably has Brazilian ancestry. Oh dear... Sacrilege!

Most of the current sports in existence today that receive lots of money were not created by black or brown people are "exploited" by black or brown people appropriating another culture if I were to go by Miss Randa Jarrar's attitude. I could go further and express how cultural appropriation of music, architecture, art, performance arts, etc are done against white people and various other races if I wanted to get technical and follow Miss Randa Jarrar's line of thinking. Granted cultural appropriation does happen and bothers me, but it's usually people who know nothing about it and exploit it such as white people of non Native American descent performing a Powwow or Sundance or a healing ritual is exploitation. Sharing a culture especially in today's melting pot global society is altogether different and frankly it's becoming disturbing how many people seem to be interested in racial and cultural segregation. We are supposed to be enlightened, moving on from such behavior, and excited to share and evolve as humans. I loved how you stated and expressed your disagreement with those articles. I wish more people understood that we are a global society and more interested in integration rather than segregation.

About Me

I’m a dancer, choreographer, class instructor, and traveling workshop presenter, specializing in artistic belly dance. My work on appears on the DVD Beautiful Technique from Step One as well as several other instructional, reference, and performance programs. My full dance bio is here.